


Coming Together Never Felt So Right

by alcego



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Cuddling, Flirting, Kissing, M/M, Meme-Humor, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, and they were ROOMMATES, oh my god they were roommates, that trope where they're wearing the others shirt, this is that, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 03:39:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11865891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alcego/pseuds/alcego
Summary: "Dude," Keith said flatly, watching as Lance's expression cycled through each individual stage of grief with frightening speed. "What are you doing?"Lance's expression froze on something comically pained- hell, it could easily be described asconstipated, which, in all honesty, Keith found fitting, considering what had just happened... or rather,hadn't.He was going to have to finish this himself, wasn't he?





	Coming Together Never Felt So Right

Honestly, fuck work. If Keith never had to work another day in his life it would be too soon- he was fine waking up in the mornings, that wasn’t the issue he had with work. No, the _issue_ was a little more complicated.

Lance was a character, to say the least, but to say more? He was an absolute pain the ass with no regard for _anyone’s_ personal space and honestly Keith should have hated that but _no,_ he just _had_ to gasp when Lance did his thing and put a hand on his shoulder. He could argue that it was just because it was _Lance_ , and that Lance was always so good about respecting boundaries (even if it took him a while to catch onto some pretty rudimentary social cues), and that he had been _surprised_. But that _wasn’t_ it, because somehow Lance had understood that they were close enough now that physical contact was a thing that they could do- even if it _did_ result in Keith gasping like he’d been sucker punched.

Of course, if there was anything more embarrassing than _gasping_ when a really hot asshole touched your shoulder, Keith was pretty sure it would be the honest look of surprise that had spread over Lance’s face only to be replaced by a _far_ too knowing smirk.

Seriously, that whole thing was bad enough on its own. But right now Keith wanted to melt into the couch and stop existing, because the source of his gay crisis was hovering at the edge of the room.

Why had he thought rooming with Lance would be a good idea again? _Because he’s fucking hot and you’re a helpless fool._ Ah, right. That would definitely explain things.

…it certainly didn’t explain why Lance was _still_ hovering though.

“What,” Keith said, too tired to bother making it sound like a question.

Lance moved to the back of the couch, moving almost too quietly for Keith to hear. Hands pushed on the back of the couch and warm breath tickled Keith’s neck. His heart stuttered.

And then Lance, being Lance, just _had_ to go and ruin the moment. “Dude, Tony the Tiger and the Grinch were dating.”

“What the hell Lance?” Keith groaned, shoving his face further into the couch. Was it too much to hope for a normal conversation with him for once?

Apparently yes. “Nooo Keith hear me out!” Lance launched himself over the back of the couch, landing hard on the back of Keith’s calves. Ignoring Keith’s undignified _oof_ of alarm and moderate pain, Lance kept talking. “Look, the movie is narrated by Boris Karloff, but that iconic musical number? ‘ _You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch?’_ _That_ was sung by Thurl Ravenscroft, the guy who voiced Tony the Tiger.”

“Where are you going with this?” Keith asked as he began to wonder if couches needed to be washed and if so how often.

Lance grouched something under his breath that sounded a lot like, “Impatient mullet-man,” but it was hard to be sure when one was distracted by the couch _in their fucking face_. “I was getting there,” Lance said a moment later, the pout audible in his tone. “Look, the guy just stands there for two minutes and fifty-eight seconds and drags the Grinch into the ground. _Clearly_ it is the result of a nasty break-up between Tony the Tiger and the Grinch.”

What the hell? “That doesn’t make any sense,” Keith groused as he wriggled his legs out from under Lance in order to get enough leverage to roll over. Fresh air never felt so good, he was sure of it. He was also pretty sure sitting up should’ve felt just as good, except for one little _itty bitty_ problem. “Dude- is that my shirt?”

It was. Keith knew it- that was _his shirt._  What the hell was Lance doing _wearing his shirt?_ What- why would Lance even feel the need to wear his shirt specifically? It’s _his_ shirt. Lance didn’t have to-

Lance was snickering. “Your face looks like it’s gonna explode man.”

That… made exactly nothing better. Keith could feel the heat in his ears now, and dear _god_ he needed to get out of there. But… “ _Why_ are you wearing my shirt?”

“Got mixed into my laundry,” Lance explained smugly as he pushed his hair back, lips pulling into what could only be called a smirk. “Why? Feeling jealous because I can rock it better than you?”

Suddenly Keith found himself remembering that traitorous gay gasp earlier in the day, remembering the way Lance’s face had gone slack with shock before settling into something dreadfully knowing- but that wasn’t what had his heart jack-hammering against the walls of his chest. No, it was how _soft_ Lance’s eyes had been behind that smirk. The thought gave him courage. “I like my shirt on you just fine,” he said slowly, enjoying the faintest dusting of color that found its way onto Lance’s cheeks as his self-satisfied smirk morphed into something unsure of itself, if not entirely displeased. And oh- _oh_. He could work with that. He looked Lance over, taking in every curve and hard plane of his body- his arms, his chest, _lower_ , and said, “But I’d like it better on the floor.”

“Holy _shit,”_ Lance wheezed, a hand reaching to cover his face as he slid off the couch into a puddle of metaphorical goo on the floor.

“What was that?” Keith asked smugly, leaning over to get a better look.

“Nothing- nothing at all!” Lance squeaked, still trying to hide his face behind his hands.

It was cute- absolutely adorable. It was almost enough to make Keith forget who he was dealing with. It was definitely enough to get him to put his guard down.

Lance peeked between his fingers, his confident grin finding its way back onto his face. “God knows I’d let you take this shirt off me any day.” It was smooth, sultry, _suave;_ everything Lance could be and then some. A picture perfect line for a picture perfect Lance.

Well, perfect except for the heat radiating from his face in fevered waves. _Seriously?_ Keith thought with amusement. _He can’t even flirt back without getting embarrassed?_

Of course, as fond as Keith was of the dork floundering below him, the truth was that he wasn’t faring much better. Like, at all. “Is-is that so?” he asked, stuttering and stumbling over his words.

“Oh yeah, totally.”

Shit. Fuck- Lance was gaining his footing, getting comfortable with the game, but Keith was still stuck on the fact that _this was actually happening._

Lance’s grin morphed into something different- something simultaneously more subdued and more intense, and he placed his elbow on the couch, twisting himself to face the couch, to face _Keith_ , and pushed himself up. He moved slowly, fluidly, his eyes taking in every inch of Keith sitting before him, drinking in every detail as he lifted himself up higher.

And Keith? Keith was _so_ not ready for this. He could feel the heat in his ears, in his chest. He could feel it pooling in his stomach, sinking _deeper_ as that look did things to him. _Is this even real? Is_ Lance _even real?_

The warmth behind Lance’s eyes felt like something straight out of a dream; it was the warmth of a beach’s sands as the sun rose, baking it in pure energy. It was a look that absorbed the heat radiating off of Keith and reflected it back at him. It was pure emotion, something so intensely and mutually felt that he was falling, getting lost in Lance’s eyes.

But why get lost if you never get found? Keith didn’t have an answer to that, and for the first time in a long time found that the thought didn’t induce a mind-numbing panic, because even as he was losing himself, Lance was meeting him halfway.

Lance’s hand brushed the outside of Keith’s thigh as he held himself over Keith, looking him over with lidded eyes. Keith suddenly felt very vulnerable beneath Lance’s open eyes and gentle want. Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? _Want._

And then Lance laughed, and the magic was broken. Moving his arm away from Keith’s thigh, Lance pushed himself over and fell into a sitting position on the couch. Keith could feel the distance between their legs like a physical barrier. Something painful pinged through Keith’s chest as he watched Lance’s face drift away from him, but he didn’t have the words to explain what he felt, or why it was eating away at his soul.

All he knew was that he couldn’t stop looking at Lance, who had started staring at the ceiling like it had murdered his family and spat in his face.

“Dude,” Keith said flatly, watching as Lance’s expression cycled through each individual stage of grief with frightening speed. “What are you doing?”

Lance’s expression froze on something comically pained- hell, it could easily be described as _constipated_ , which, in all honesty, Keith found fitting considering what had just happened… or rather, _hadn’t._

He was going to have to finish this himself, wasn’t he?

Keith shifted to face Lance better, felt his knee brush against Lance’s thigh as he pulled in onto the couch for balance and comfort. Lance’s neck was flushed and burning as Keith’s hand ghosted over the bare skin, but it was nothing compared to his face. Keith found himself adoring the softness of Lance’s skin as he traced his free hand over Lance’s cheek, finally understanding why he was so dedicated to a nightly skin care regimen.

“What are you waiting for?” Lance whispered.

 _Nothing._ Keith leaned forward, eyes lidded, and felt his stomach flip as their lips brushed together, tentatively at first, unsure of themselves. But Keith had never been one to do things halfway, and this sure as hell wasn’t an exception.

His hand moved to cradle Lance’s jaw, to pull him closer and hold him tighter- to prove to himself that Lance was _there_ , that this was really, finally happening. Teeth tugged at his lower lip and Keith gasped, his lips parting just enough to feel Lance’s tongue ghost over them, and _damn_. Just- shit, what were words anyway, to describe a thing like this?

He lost himself in the motion, in the push and the pull. Felt Lance’s hands ghosting over his back, pulling him closer, and who was Keith to deny him the very thing he’d been craving ever since this had started?

Keith’s hands drifted lower and he threw a leg over Lance’s lap, taking pleasure in their closeness, in the warmth beneath him. A hand in his hair distracted him, tugged his head back so that Lance could pepper his neck with kisses and sneak a hand up the back of Keith’s shirt.

He wasn’t sure how to describe the sound he made then- only knew that if it had happened at any other time he would have been mortified beyond belief, but in the moment it was the only thing that felt right. Felt just as good as Lance’s smirk against his neck, as his tongue laving against his throat and oh- this had gone _so far_ beyond kissing already.

And then Lance’s hands were on his shoulders, guiding him to back to the couch, and Keith felt soft and squishy inside. He was happily warm, perfectly happy- _happy._

“You’re grinning,” Lance said, gently brushing a finger over Keith’s lips. He wore his own smile easily, and Keith thought that if he got any warmer he would melt.

“So are you,” Keith said as he pressed their foreheads together and wrapped his arms around Lance’s shoulders. He rested his head against the couch and let himself be enveloped in the simple comfort of Lance’s weight over him. It was something he hadn’t realized he wanted, something he hadn’t realized he craved, and he found that he loved it, and wanted more of it.

Lance peppered his face with kisses, ran his hands up his sides and through his hair, but it was tamer now, the fire dulled. Keith’s hands did their fair share of wandering, and he would honestly be surprised if Lance’s neck was free of marks in the morning, but he found himself lost in the comfort of Lance resting his weight on him, floating now that the hole in his soul had been patched up.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before Lance mumbled something along the lines of, _Sorry, didn’t mean to lay on you man,_ and pushed himself up into a sitting position. It was an innocent move- hell, it was a kind one, but it made Keith feel hollow, and he sucked in a breath.

Tried to say something.

But the words got stuck in his throat, and he had to swallow thickly before the words decided they would work with him. Feelings were hard, okay? “A-actually, I kinda… liked that.” Finally- _finally_ the words worked.

Lance smiled. “You sure?”

“Just get back here,” Keith said, voice cracking as an embarrassed laugh broke through. Lance smiled and lay back down on top of him, and Keith was once again grateful for his uncanny ability to tell when someone was uncomfortable and comfort them in the most appropriate way. He remembered a time when Lance was less mature about it, when he’d gripe and groan without making things better- but he’d never made anything worse, either, and Keith thought that said something in and of itself.

He pressed his face into the crook of Keith’s shoulder, and Keith felt his smile. “So,” he said after making himself comfortable. “We just gonna stay like this all night?”

Would they? It wasn’t an unpleasant idea… “Only if you don’t wake up in the middle of the night for ramen again.”

“It was _one time_ Keith! _One time!_ ”

Keith laughed, and they fell into an easy rhythm of playful banter. If this was what was waiting for him when he came home from work now, well… Keith could handle working tomorrow’s shift.

**Author's Note:**

> [I have a tumblr!](http://alcego.tumblr.com)


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